


Homecoming

by Elegant_Geek



Category: American Idiot - Green Day/Armstrong
Genre: American Idiot Era, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Punk Rock, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Warehouse 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elegant_Geek/pseuds/Elegant_Geek
Summary: This story has themes of suicide, violence, and excessive swearing (Johnny’s gotta calm down). My first story. Tunny struggles with thoughts of suicide.
Kudos: 2





	Homecoming

I’M GONNA KEEP THIS SHORT. I’M SORRY. THIS IS IT. I’VE TRIED. I REALLY HAVE. THIS ISN’T MY FIGHT. THIS ISN’T MY LIFE. THANKS FOR EVERYTHING BUDDY.  
GOODBYE.  
-TUNNY

5:29 AM  
Dawn. No one is up, at least, Tunny hopes not. This is the perfect moment. Tunny glances down at his white T-shirt and runs a hand through his messy hair. He can’t remember the last time he’s slept. For the past two days, he’s just been lying in bed awake. He sighs as he laces up his favorite black combat boots. He’s forgotten pants. Shit, whatever. Tunny carefully navigates down the stairs not bothering to mute the noisy clunking of his boots. His heart begins to pound painfully. Deep breath in, shuddering sigh out. This is it…

He opens the back door of the apartment and steps out onto the muddy ground. Tunny can barely make out his surroundings at first. The sun will rise soon. His eyes adjust to make out the silhouette of the trees against the sky. He even hears a few birds. Nature seems so pleasant; the world is at ease. Everyone is asleep. This can’t go wrong.

Tunny steps out about 50 feet from the house, walking slowly but deliberately. He does not look back once. Favorite Son is on his mind. His sacrifice. His death. Tunny swells with guilt and he starts up.   
“I’m sorry,” Tunny whispers to the sky. “I tried. I really did…”

His voice breaks. Tunny is lost for words. He shakes his head violently in anguish biting his lip. He sinks onto his left knee which soaks deep into the mud. His breathing becomes staggered. Tunny is holding a small gun in his right hand. Cold and black waiting for Tunny to wrap it up. As Tunny delays the inevitable, he experiences a squeezing pressure in his chest. Something is missing, but what? He leans forward, propping his right arm over his leg to support himself. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, chest hitching several times. Tunny suddenly senses the urgency of what he must do. The sun is rising. His frame is far more visible now. He exhales heavily. 

“Okay, okay.” Tunny’s right hand trembles hard with the gun as if it could go off on its own at any minute. The gun waits excitedly, eager to be put to use. Tunny slowly taps it to his forehead. Right between his eyes. His arms ache and tingle all over; he’s shaking worse now. The sensation will be gone in just a moment. 

Just a moment. 

Finger over the trigger. Tunny shuts his eyes squeezing out tears. One. Two. T-

“TUNNY!” Johnny’s voice cries out. “TUNNY! NO!” Johnny is sprinting out through the muddy ground barefoot in pajamas. “PLEASE!” Tunny’s eyes snap open and he drops the gun in shock. It thuds on the ground disappointed. Johnny reaches him in seconds, slipping in the mud at first. He throws himself hard against Tunny’s chest. “I WON’T LET YOU! I WON’T LET YOU!” Johnny grabs the back of Tunny’s head pressing him into his shoulder. Tunny falls back onto Johnny sobbing. 

“S-orry, s-orry…” Tunny tries to make out. Johnny can barely look at the gun on the ground. He pushes Tunny back to look him in the eyes. Johnny has never seen him in this much pain before; tears are still rolling down his cheeks. 

“Don’t you leave me!” Johnny says shaking Tunny’s shoulders. “Don’t you ever do that again.” Johnny is down on both knees, Tunny still swaying on his left. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Tunny whispers again. For a few minutes, Johnny just holds onto Tunny, arms wrapped tightly around his back. 

“Why?” Johnny is looking down at the gun again. He slowly raises his head back up staring at Tunny. “WHY?” Tunny’s face is flushed. 

“I’m not strong enough.” Johnny can barely respond to this. He starts shaking Tunny’s shoulders again. 

“No, look at me. You’re gonna make it through this. You’re gonna LIVE, Tunny.” At this, Tunny falls against Johnny wailing. Johnny starts crying uncontrollably too. 

7:05 AM  
“I just wanted the pain to end, you know? Just like THAT!” Tunny claps loudly making Johnny jump. Tunny is propped up against a tree, legs out in front of him, and glancing up at the sky. The sun is up high now and its light is warm and pleasant. Tunny’s white shirt glows against his body. 

“Just… promise me you’ll never do that again?” Johnny asks. Tunny gently wipes his eyes still looking at the sky. He notices Johnny staring intently at him. He glances back in amusement at first. “Tunny,” Johnny is urgent, disturbed by Tunny’s silence. “Promise me.” Tunny has a look of deep disagreement and discomfort. He swings his head away from Johnny, eyes closed. Johnny panics. Tunny hears clicking and rattling as Johnny fumbles with his gun trying to discharge and unload it. 

“Hey!” 

“I’m not fucking doing this.” Johnny pockets the bullets and grips the gun hard in his left hand. 

“The fuck?!” Tunny exclaims indignantly, gesturing aggressively. Johnny sprints back towards the apartment. He rushes into his bedroom and hides the gun and bullets inside a neon orange Nike shoe box in his closet. Surprisingly, Will is up this early, waffle in hand. He sees Johnny rushing around and scraping mud across the carpet of his room. 

“What’s up?” Will asks curiously stopping in the doorway. Johnny suddenly comes at him pushing him out of the way. “Dude?!” Johnny is on the phone and Will overhears the operator mutter something about suicide. “Hey! What’s happening?!” Will rushes after Johnny trying to catch more words of the conversation. Tunny is still propped against the tree. He sees Johnny storming back out with Will close behind. 

“Where’d you put it, huh?” Tunny says this low and menacing. “Up your-” 

“Shut the fuck up, alright? I’m putting your ass on suicide watch!” Tunny starts hoisting himself up to beat the shit out of Johnny. He tucks his right leg under himself so he can stand, but before he can, he is pinned back against the tree by Johnny’s muddy foot. 

“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” Johnny smiles in triumph as Tunny swings his arms blindly in fury. Tunny suddenly stops resisting and kicks out at Johnny’s standing knee joint. Will winces as he hears the impact of the heavy boot crushing into Johnny’s leg. Johnny immediately collapses, yelling out and cursing Tunny to hell. Now free, Tunny pushes himself up with surprising agility. 

“Woah, woah…” Will was not about to get in Tunny’s way, but he was not going to watch Johnny get pounded to a pulp either. He watches Tunny anxiously from behind Johnny who is struggling to balance himself. His leg is bent at an odd angle standing. Tunny pushes Johnny back aggressively forcing him to shift weight on his injured leg and Johnny staggers back swearing. He doubles over with his face twisted in agony, refusing to fall back down. 

“We’re even now, bitch.” Tunny says grinning, leaning on his exposed prosthetic leg smugly. Johnny backs away even more now, starting to succumb to the pain- he can’t win. He can’t… Tunny moves in dangerously again.

“I saved your fucking life and this is how you thank me?!”   
This bullet of a statement strikes Tunny hard in the chest. He recoils and goes limp with shame, all fight gone from him. In this moment of weakness, Will rushes at Tunny pushing him back gently away from Johnny. “Mm-fuck.” Johnny can’t put any weight on his left leg. He is hunched over with his injured leg hovering off the ground. He glares at Tunny. “You motherfucker… I can’t fuckin’ walk.” Tunny feels himself falling back into the dark corners of his mind. He remembers the worst pain he had ever felt in his life. How he had been shot down. The endless hallucinations, the amputation… Tunny slowly approaches Johnny placing an arm on his back to support him. “Get away from me!” Johnny cries out pulling himself away and bumping into Will. 

“I’m sorry.” Tunny’s voice is hurt and pleading. 

“FUCK if I care.” Johnny growls through clenched teeth. He leans further onto Will for support and turns back to the apartment. Tunny bites his lip and drops his head down in guilt. “I’ll just need crutches or some shit.” Johnny murmurs as he limps. 

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem that bad?” Will asks hopefully. 

“It’s nothin.” Johnny replies easily but he still clings to Will as they walk. 

7:32 AM  
Johnny goes off to take a shower. Will is drying his feet off with a towel and he looks down uncomfortably as Tunny trudges loudly past him. Tunny does not wash off. His prosthetic leg scrapes the stairs leaving a trail of muck and grime behind him. Five minutes later, he returns downstairs wearing well-worn jeans and opens the front door. 

“Hey, where you off to?” Will protests. “Tun-” Johnny’s car revs. “Fuck!” Will sprints to Johnny’s bathroom door and screams against it. “He just left the house!” 

“Fuck if I fucking care, Will.” Johnny snarls from the other side. 

“Dude?!” Will twists the locked doorknob furiously. 

“What?!” Johnny flings the door open angrily. 

“He’s suicidal, yeah?” Johnny limps over to his closet and shakes the orange cardboard box on the top shelf. Its contents rattle and slide around heavily. 

“His shit’s in here. He’s not doin’ anything.” Johnny growls. He whirls back around to find Will staring at him, all color gone from his face. 

“He took your car dude.” Johnny shuts his eyes and groans into the air. Will notices a torn half sheet of loose-leaf paper hanging off the side of Johnny’s nightstand and he reads it over. “Damn…” Will is stunned into silence as Tunny’s note hits him full force. “He really meant it.” If Johnny hadn’t woken up, if he hadn’t been there… Johnny doesn’t say a word. He sits cross-legged on his bed eyes closed. “Buddy,” Will laughs uncomfortably. “He called you buddy here. He never calls you that! He never calls anyone that.” Will feigns amusement. He fights the urge to cry in the deafening silence. He puts a hand over his mouth. “Thank you for saving him.” Will says after a moment. 

“Whatever.” Johnny shrugs. Will feels his face getting hot. 

“Tunny is a dick, yeah. But no fucking way does he-” Will quickly changes what he’s about to say “-deserve this. Quit sulking around. He’s-” Johnny cuts Will off rising over his fading voice. 

“A fucked up leg is the thanks I get. I’m done.” Johnny snaps. 

“But he’s not himself! Look! He called you BUDDY. Like, that’s not him!” Will waves the suicide note in Johnny’s face briefly before it is swatted away. 

“Ya know what he’s been through, Will?” Johnny mutters slowly with his chin against his chest. “His best friend got shot in the side of the head. Right in front of him.” Johnny doesn’t dare watch Will react. “He… he thinks that’s on him. Like he’s responsible or some shit. He never told no one. No one.” Johnny tears skin off his lip which begins to bleed. “He’s- uh, all this war stuff has got him messed up in the head.” Johnny trails off to stifle the exposed pain in his voice.

“Damn, I had no idea,” Will sighs dropping himself on the bed. 

“I shouldn’t have said any of that. He’s never gotten help.” Will is looking curiously at Johnny wondering how much he knows. He leans in yearning to understand, to make sense of everything. “Don’t ask about this morning.” Johnny blurts out abruptly. He eyes his phone laying abandoned on the ground. On an impulse, he swipes it up and dials Tunny’s number. Will stares ahead blankly lost in thought. 

“Hello? Hello? AHH! Just kidding. I’m not around right now. Leave a-” Johnny cuts off the answering machine and slams his phone against his bed with a thud. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Johnny groans. “He’ll give in,” Will grins maliciously as he sends an initial “where the fuk ru” text. Tunny isn’t prepared for the bomb that’s coming. Johnny raises an eyebrow at him as he begins jamming his fingers rapidly into the keyboard of his phone. 

“He’s probably still driving.” Will knows that enough texts might crash Tunny’s crappy old phone. Johnny leans over Will watching in amazement. Sure enough, after a particularly nasty string of “WHERE THE FUK ARE YOU FOOL?!,” Will gets a single word in response: “hosp” (and the obligatory “you have been blocked” message received right after). “Boom! Look at that.” Will stands up and stretches his arms over his head in pride. 

“Way to go. Now if I try anything, he’ll block me too.” Johnny rolls his eyes trying not to smile. Tunny is in the hospital. Thank God. 

“Whatever! He’s gotten help now!” Will gives Johnny another goofy grin.

Finally. It’s about time.

6:46 PM  
It has been a while. Tunny looks down at his phone to see two missed calls. Johnny jolts awake as his thigh vibrates. 

“Hello?!” 

“Hey.” 

“The fuck haven’t you answered?!” Johnny rushes over to Will who is lazily splayed out all over the black loveseat. 

“It’s been a time… getting checked in. No phones allowed.” 

“Will tells me you’re at the hospital?” Johnny yearns for clarity. 

“FUCK YOU Will. Yes…” Johnny exhales in relief while Will kicks the air hysterically in victory. 

“How long you gonna be there? Don’t people stay in there for weeks?” Johnny tries and fails to mask his concern. 

“Sixteen days.” Tunny answers after a brief pause. Will is shaking Johnny’s shoulder nagging him for updates. 

“Damn, well uh, alright.” Johnny visualizes his beautiful red car decaying in the hospital parking lot for two weeks. 

“I have this nurse in here who comes and goes. She’s beautiful.” Johnny hears Tunny smile through the phone. 

“That’s you with EVERY fuckin’ nurse, man!” Johnny chuckles while pushing Will off him. 

“Well, she’s the one. ‘n I love her.” Tunny replies assertively. 

“Alrighty Tunny. Sounds like you got yourself a plan.”

“Did he say sixteen days?” Will asks.

“You said sixteen days, right?” Johnny needs this confirmed. 

“Gotta go.” Tunny says bluntly. 

“Fine- take it easy man.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Hey, Tunny. I’m proud of ya. Getting help n’all.” Johnny looks down. His screen is off. Tunny had hung up on him. “Shit,” Johnny grips his phone tightly nearly breaking it. Will pops off the couch with sudden energy. 

“Alright, sixteen days it is!” 

“He never confirmed that,” Johnny notes as he watches Will disappear into the kitchen. “He better keep us updated.” Johnny says with annoyance. He hears Will rummaging around in the fridge. 

“Dude. Fuckiiiiinnnn…” Will is buried in something and his voice is distant. 

“Fuckiiiiinnnn what?” Johnny repeats mockingly. Will struts in the room proudly holding a six pack of beer grinning ear to ear. 

8:59 PM  
“No! C’mon! Stop, you idiot!” Will blocks Johnny’s view of the TV by dive bombing his legs down across Johnny’s lap. 

“NYEEEEOOOOHHHRRR!” Johnny dodges Will’s feet again in mild amusement.   
“Get your fucking nasty feet outta my face.” Will laughs gleefully without sound as his feet are pushed aside. He wildly grasps for the open beer sitting on the coffee table and Johnny quickly snatches it up. “No more for you!” Will puts on a dramatic puppy dog face and drool seeps out of the corner of his mouth. Johnny throws his head back laughing in delight nearly dropping the beer. “You’re so fucking dumb!” Will knocks over a jumbo tub of pretzel nuggets in an attempt to get his bottle back. Johnny wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes. He glances at the pretzel explosion on the floor catching his breath. “You fuck with my pretzels, I’ll-” Johnny downs the rest of Will’s beer in one gulp and yells nonsense over Will’s slurred protests. Johnny resumes watching the TV, mindlessly flipping through the channels. He occasionally eats a pretzel nugget off the floor. Will slowly gets up and makes a beeline for the fridge. 

“That’s all of it, man.” Johnny says resigned. They’re both outta beer. This evening of half-assed partying was winding down at 9 PM. 

“Man, if Tunny were here, he’d… ahahaaaah, he’d…” Johnny’s eyes are half open. He cocks his head to the side staring at his phone. Tunny’s having a good time elsewhere. Swarmed by nurses all flirting with him ‘n shit. Fooling around… Johnny grins at the thought. He’s having the time of his life in suicide watch. Suicide watch. But that’s supposed to be like prison isn’t it? Like, they take your shit away and tie you down… “That doesn’t make sense, that doesn’t make ANY sense.” Johnny worries aloud. Tunny would never put up with that, he just wouldn’t. Johnny’s head begins to pound and his chest swells with dread. “What the fuck?!” Something is terribly wrong. But the nurses though! He’s in love with that one he mentioned. He’s okay. He’s alright. Safe. He’s… Johnny’s mind races around in circles. No! He talks to NO ONE.   
He wouldn’t even talk to me about stuff… well, only that one time when he was at a low point. A really low point. Suicidal. Johnny fights to pull his drifting thoughts back and the dread returns. Low point. Low… point. 

He’s got his gun. No, it’s safe. It’s-

He’s got his gun.

8:59 PM  
A smile creeps across Tunny’s thin lips. This place is beautiful, heavenly even. It is hours from home. Johnny’s car sits forgotten on the side of the road with a near empty gas tank. 

“Holy shit,” Tunny wanders hypnotically into the abandoned warehouse. Long forgotten machines, peeling paint, rust, and endless echoes. He cranes his head up to gawk at the mile-high ceiling of the place mesmerized by the ruin and rot. The darkest room in the building lies directly ahead. Tunny’s heart races with excitement as his surroundings fade away in the gloom. He stumbles over something hard and gags as the putrid smell of who knows what suddenly hits his nose. For the first time, Tunny is afraid. he is hesitant. Almost fearful. The dark had never scared him before, but now… Tunny bows his head and slowly takes a knee. The familiar pangs return to his chest and echo for miles within his ribcage. Doing this fucking right this time. Gun out of pocket. Gun loaded. Favorite Son is standing right in front of him. Arms extended in welcome, inviting his old friend to join him once again. Tunny sways with his chest hitching, eyes shut tight. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” The darkness absorbs his fleeting message. Everything hits him at once. Guilt… agony… blood- “Oh, God!” Tunny presses the gun against his head hard. The cold metal stings.

9:11 PM  
Johnny races into his room fighting against the stabbing pains in his left knee. He yanks down the orange box and opens it to find it full of old hardware and scrap metal. 

“GOD!” Johnny slams the box into the ground and punches Tunny’s number in his phone. His hands shake violently. Bzzz. It’s too late. Bzzz. it’s too late. Bzzz. it’s too late. Bzzz. No, it’s too FUCKING LATE! 

Tunny jumps as his pocket vibrates. He hears Johnny’s muffled voice through the static. 

“Tunny… oh, Tunny…” Johnny cries into the phone, unaware that his call was accepted. Tunny takes a moment to collect himself. 

“The h- the ho-spital…” he whispers. 

“Tunny! Don’t do it, don’t do it.” Tunny realizes his game is up, and he lets out a single sob. “I’m here, I’m here! Hello?!” Johnny pleads through the terrifying silence. 

“Johnny, I’m coming home, I’M COMING HOME!” 

“Okay, okay.” Johnny is trying to calm himself down but he can’t. This is all too much for him. He frantically rambles into his phone holding it tightly in both hands against his lips. “Just stay on the phone for me, just stay here. Just stay on, stay on please! Can you do that for me?” Johnny looks down. 

The glow is gone. His phone is off. Tunny had hung up.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes (***Including Deer Hunter spoilers of all things***)
> 
> The end is meant to be a bit foggy.  
> So, I think this is a very strange coincidence. I wrote this story at least a month ago. I just recently watched The Deer Hunter. While proofreading and re-reading this story, I couldn’t help but notice how shockingly similar the ending was to that movie. (SPOILER: A guy begs his best friend to come home, and friend shoots himself in the head instead.) No wonder why I connected to that movie so much. I accidentally stumbled across DH while writing another AI fanfiction involving a game of Russian roulette. I was on Wikipedia trying to find out the rules of RR and stumbled across the particularly cruel version that was forced on the characters in The Deer Hunter. *Exit American Idiot obsession. *  
> Anyway, I have moved on from feeling bad for Tunny (hence this sob story) into feeling bad for Nick (one of the most tragic characters in existence IMO.) I’d love to hear feedback on this story! Thanks for stopping by!


End file.
